


love me like the sun shines

by spacegirlkj



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged up characters, Domestic, Fluff, HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOOKS ILYSM, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, musings, they smooch a bunch, theyre in love, university team!!!!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-07 13:47:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11624802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacegirlkj/pseuds/spacegirlkj
Summary: oikawa thinks, this is the best life they couldve had.





	love me like the sun shines

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MooksMookin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MooksMookin/gifts).



> happy birthday mooks, my dearest friend, my rock, the hinata to my yachi (bffs who love nd support each other) the world and the sun and the moon!!! you deserve the best birthday and i love you so much for everything you've done, and admire you for the drive and passion and detirmination you posses. i love you! have a great birthday <3

Sometimes, Oikawa feels it crackle. Lightning under the skin, buzzing in his veins. It's bright and it’s fiery and it's a thousand shades of sunset burning his eyes, making everything go white, everything become _more_.

  
It happens when he's playing, when he gets into it. It happens when he's chasing elation or a feeling, when laughter aches his rib bones or stress breaks his back. But, most of all, it happens when Hinata is around.

  
He is energy at the root of it— and since they met, it’s been chasing storms. Hinata smiles like lightning and solar flares personified, is nails raking down his back and soft kisses at the same time. Oikawa loves him, loves him.

  
They walk home after practice hand in hand, when the night sky is already looming over. Golden lights illuminate from buildings, soften the glow of neon signs and pastel storefronts blindingly bright in the hour. Hinata leans on him when it’s just them together, breathing like the tide and humming underneath his breath. Oikawa wants to steal the sun for him, wants to make it always bright.

“D’you think— how long d’you think it’d take for plants to take over once we— people— we leave?” he asks. It’s late and their muscles ache, and Hinata is gingerly stretching out his thigh as they wait at the crosswalk. Oikawa hopes he’ll let him work the knots out later.

“Mmm, a year, maybe,” Oikawa responds. He squeezes Hinata’s hand a little tighter as the crosswalk flickers green, signalling them to continue. “Why do you ask?”

Hinata doesn’t reply at first, too busy staring at Oikawa’s hair as the wind blows through. He reaches up and fixes a stray stand to Oikawa’s surprise, making him stumble on a crack in the sidewalk and blush.

“I’d like to have one of those little herbal kitchen gardens, y’know?” Hinata explains, lips quirked into a smile. “So I can grow everything I cook with if we had the _time_ to cook and garden in the first place.”

Oikawa giggles, heart throbbing with fondness. It’s true that they rarely spend time at their shoebox apartment between training and games and classes, but it’s nice to daydream about waking up and doing nothing, about wrapping his hands around Hinata’s waist and kissing the nape of his neck. Hinata would wear his old shirt, the one he used to love but has long since been claimed by his boyfriend as something to sleep in, would make french toast and sing off key to whatever song hummed through their broken radio.

Hinata catches that glint of wistfulness in his eye and watches him knowingly, smile replaced with a smirk as he leans more into Oikawa’s chest. Above them, the sky clouds over, stars covered by thick clouds threatening a storm. Neither look up, too locked in on each other’s eyes, too focused on the way the world circles around them, and only them. Rain drizzles, splashing water up from the ground and onto their shoes, dampening their hair and sending a chill through their bones.

Hinata squeaks when he feels the rain turn to downpour, pulls Oikawa under the awning of a nearby building. The red lights of the glowing interior cast shadows across their faces as they laugh, wringing out their hair and squeaking the soles of their shoes together. It’s taken longer than it usually does to get where they are now, which, while usually being the case, seems a little frightening as thunder rumbles and threatens the crack of lightning. The two stare, wide, brown eyes locked, wordlessly agreeing to sprint the last leg with their screaming legs, tired muscles and worked bones. They shield their heads with coats and gym bags, splashing through the puddles by the side of the road and yelping when water slides off the roof of their building and onto their heads.

The two throw open the front door of their building, shrugging off their team jackets and holding back laughter as not to wake anyone else. Hinata looks up at Oikawa, running his fingers in his hair and shaking out the water from his hair. Oikawa feels his heart seize as Hinata looks up at him, tongue sticking out between teeth, heat from their rain soaked bodies ebbing in the closeness. Oikawa sighs softly, bumping their shoulders together as they walk up to their apartment.

Hinata leads the way, twirling his key as he approaches the door. It nearly slips from his fingers as he stumbles to unlock the door, Oikawa snorting at his fumble as the lock opens with a _click_.

Hinata pouts as he walks into the apartment. “Oh as if you haven't dropped the keys—”

He's cut off by Oikawa turning around and brushing a hand to his jaw, leaning down and locking his lips with Hinata’s. Hinata’s sentence trails off with a _mrph_ , sighing heavily out of his nose as his hands reach up to brush through Oikawa’s hair. Oikawa tastes like the bubblegum he always chews after practice, kisses soft and cradles him as he backs him up against the wall. The bags drop from their hands, Hinata raising onto his tiptoes to bring themselves closer and closer.

Oikawa nibbles on his lip, slipping a cold hand up Hinata’s stomach. Hinata shivers, still leaning closer, still humming as he slips his tongue across Oikawa’s bottom lip. Slowly, Oikawa pulls him off of the wall, breaking the kiss to drag him through their cramped studio apartment and back towards the bed.

“Mmmm’Tooru,” Hinata whines. “We’re all dirty.”

“We get tomorrow off,” Oikawa murmurs between kisses. “If you want to shower you can—”

He gets his answer in the form of Hinata tugging him back down on top of him by the collar of his shirt, crashing their lips back together. Oikawa makes a noise of surprise but doesn’t protest, hands moving to push his shirt back up Hinata’s head, working his over and off his shoulders and flinging it into the corner of the room.

Hinata hums, Oikawa kissing down his jaw, hands still roaming up and down his chest. Every breath he draws as he kisses marks onto his throat seems orchestrated, seems like a song, pulls Hinata’s back off the bed in an arc that presses their chests together. When Oikawa looks back to admire his work, Hinata only surges forwards, peeling off his shirt with haste, reveling in the bare skin underneath. Hands slide up and down his chest, nails scraping lighting as he continues his ministrations in admiring his abs, in kneading his hands into his hips.

Oikawa tightens his hold on Hinata’s waist, rolling over onto his back so that Hinata sits on his lap, pulls him down and reconnects their lips. It's languid with purpose, with passion, wet and heavy as Oikawa nips his lips, hands moving to help Hinata out of his pants.

It's nights like these, where they're burnt out but still running, where they're using the fumes of their love to fuel their desire, where moments are shared in the midst of it all where all they do is _breathe_ , inhaling each other as they grow closer and closer, until there's nothing between them at all. Hinata's eyes flutter open and closed as Oikawa strokes his cheek, so clear in his worship before closing his eyes, kissing Hinata with softness reminiscent of silk sheets.

That night before they sleep, when Hinata is curled onto Oikawa’s chest, Oikawa remembers when they met, through the cross hatch of the net, sweat sticking to their foreheads and eyes blown wide. The memory makes him smile in all it entails, wistfully, warmly, Oikawa’s beating loud, beating fond, so fond. Hinata falls asleep as Oikawa works his fingers through his hair, kisses his forehead and whispers _I love you more than anything else._ He falls in love with him, and the certainty that even if he didn't hear, Hinata knows anyways.

(The thing is, Hinata heard, smiled into Oikawa’s chest and thanked every star he ever wished on for the life they live now.)

—

Daylight breaks through the curtains, soft rays of sunshine catching the bits of dust that float through the air. Oikawa blinks open his heavy eyes, still ridden with sleep, and sits up, noting the music that drifts through the room and the cold, empty spot beside him.

_Honey honey_

_I can see the stars all the way from here_

_Can't you see the glow on the window pane_

_I can feel the sun whenever you're near_

_Every time you touch me I just melt away_

Oikawa grins, throwing the covers off himself as he searches for a shirt to throw on— the one he usually grabs is missing, so he settles for something old and on its last legs. He walks across the room, picking up his glasses so that he can see Hinata in the golden light of day, pouring two mugs of coffee and wearing that very shirt Oikawa was looking for. He can hear it better now— how Hinata carries the tune with a strained morning voice, how he stirs in the sugar to his coffee and sways from side to side. Smiling from ear to ear, Oikawa approaches him from behind, slipping his arms around him and earning a squeak and a halt in the singing. He buries his face in the crook of Hinata’s neck, hands still trailing under his shirt as they stand close in the embrace.

Eventually, Hinata turns in Oikawa’s arms so that they face each other, unable to contain his grin as his arms sling over top of Oikawa’s shoulders. Purple bruises bloom faint on his neck, but Oikawa has other places to stare, namely the eyes that flick up to him with sch adoration it makes his heart burst.

“Morning, Shouyou,” he says, kissing his forehead. “You stole my shirt.”

Hinata shrugs. “You stole my heart.”

Oikawa gasps, heat rising up his neck. “I— I'm— Shou-chan!” he stammers.

“It's true,” Hinata says, pushing his face into Oikawa’s shirt.

Oikawa hums, shaking his head as he holds Hinata tight. “I love you.”

“Mm, love you too,” Hinata says.

And there, in the kitchen cramped apartment, listening to 2000s pop in each others arms, Oikawa falls in love again, and again, and again. He falls in love with the kisses and the running through the rain, with Hinata’s smile and the mornings spent here, together, neither moving nor pulling away, so wrapped up in the little kisses and coffee taste. And the world outside, big, bright, could never be more beautiful than what they have here. It all can wait for them, it all can wait for them.

**Author's Note:**

> catch me on tumblr at spacegaykj! kudos nd comments are always appreciated


End file.
